


The taste of your laughter

by liripip



Series: Room for three [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Budding Romance, Friends to Lovers, Light Bondage, M/M, past hook-up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 13:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14671731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liripip/pseuds/liripip
Summary: Don't get ahead of yourself, Morrison, he tells himself. You blew each other in a supply closet at your graduation party. He said you were hot. That doesn't mean that he's in love with you, Jesus Christ, get a grip.





	The taste of your laughter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DryDreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DryDreams/gifts).



> This has been kicking around as a half-finished draft for months and as an idea since sometime autumn 2016, and I finally got so desperate to do anything but tear my hair over my Big Bang that I finished it.

The hypertrain slows down so smoothly even Jack’s enhanced senses can’t quite pick out when it stops. The doors opening, however, lets a cacophony of sounds and smells into the quiet, climate controlled carriage, and he can pick out a dozen conversations, scattered laughter, a child crying, the scent of coffee counterpointing sweat, perfume, sun-warm garbage bins and hot, fresh bread.

He steps into the sunlight, absently shrugging off his sweatshirt and stuffing it in his backpack, eyes nervously roaming the crowd while he walks to the street exit. He’s beginning to wish he had just talked to Gabriel instead, talked to him properly, instead of this hastily improvised plan to run the LA Marathon as an excuse to see him again.

Because now he’s not sure where they stand. He doesn't know if Gabe is just letting him crash on his couch because he's a good guy, or if his feelings for him are reciprocated.

_Don't get ahead of yourself,_ Morrison, he tells himself. You blew each other in a supply closet at your graduation party. He said you were hot. That doesn't mean that he's in love with you, Jesus Christ, get a grip.

Just because Jack's had a hard time (hurr hurr, and he does mean that literally as well as figuratively) getting it out of his head during their months apart doesn't mean it was as big a deal to Gabriel as it was to him.

He knows that Gabe has slept with friends before, he'd been almost aggressively casual about mentioning it. Just throwing it out there the first time they'd sat down for a beer together, just on the cusp between sparring partners and friends, Gabe’s eyes neutral as he waited for Jack's reaction to those friends sometimes being guys.

“Oh”, Jack had said, flustered. “That's nice.” Then he'd blushed, and Gabriel had given him a look of such amused tolerance that Jack had felt it necessary to list his own sexual history, never you mind that his blush had nothing to do with being uncomfortable and everything to do with fucking up an excellent opportunity to hit on the guy he'd been discreetly checking out in the locker room.

He might have embellished a little, because Gabe seemed so confident. Suave. And while Jack hadn't considered himself innocent for a long time, there are still some things he hasn't tried yet. Things he thinks he’d like, he just hasn't wanted to jump into it with just anyone.

Like Gabriel seems to have been doing, he thinks sourly. It's a stupid thing to be jealous about, he's well aware. He has no say in whom Gabe fucks now, let alone before they met. He himself has sucked cock before, though perhaps not quite as many times as he'd implied. He wonders if Gabriel had guessed that. He had felt a little bit outclassed.

He sighs. There's no point in pretending he doesn't want more than a casual lay. He likes Gabriel-- he's a great friend, he has this dorky laugh that Jack can't get enough of, when he smiles it makes him feel like the sun’s just come out of the clouds.

When they'd kissed he had felt like the entire world had spun out of existence and he hadn't even cared. Gabriel had said he'd been thinking about it for months, and Jack very much wants that to read something into that but he isn’t sure if he should.

His musings are interrupted by the sight of the man himself.

He’s kind of hard to miss.

Not only has he chosen to drape himself not at all casually against a convenient low wall, he has also apparently reverted to the edgy goth boy style Jack had been half convinced he'd been joking about.

Gone is the clean-cut military look he sported at the SEP, replaced with an all black ensemble featuring several studded belts and ripped jeans so alarmingly tight they make Jack uncomfortable just looking at them. He has a ring through his lip, which glints when he grins at Jack, he has painted his nails black, and he’s wearing his hood up despite the beautiful weather. This is a ridiculous way for a grown man to be dressing, thinks the part of Jack that instinctively knows what the world expects from him, while the rest of him feels warmth spreading throughout his body because Gabriel is here and he is smiling at him.

“Hey,” Gabriel rumbles low in his chest, slinging an arm around Jack’s shoulders in a kind of manly half-hug. His smile is warm, though, and his eyes are seeking Jack’s questioningly, so Jack turns fully into the embrace, wrapping his arms tight around his back. Gabriel squeezes him back, and when he lets go and leans back Jack is so very close to sliding his hands down his sides, holding him like a lover. It would feel right. Natural.

Instead he holds the hug for a second too long, and then sticks his hands in his pockets like an idiot when Gabriel glances at him.

“Hey,” he says, awkwardly. Great. This is going well. “You look good. I like the hair.”

Gabriel laughs, and it sounds nervous. Jack hopes very much that it is the tongue-tied kind of nervous, not the just-realized-I-invited-a-clingy-weirdo-into-my-home kind.

“Thanks,” he says, pushing the hood off his head with a finger. Below it, he's let his hair grow, long enough to show off the slight curl on the top. The sides and neck are still shaved. It suits him. “I'd forgotten what a fucking hassle it is, though. Can't just duck under the shower and be done.”

Jack badly wants to reach out and bury his fingers in it, pull Gabriel in for a kiss. Damn, but a few months apart has done nothing, he has it worse than ever.

His stomach chooses that moment to voice its displeasure with the amount of snacks Jack brought on the trip: he'd been out by the time they passed Denver, and the café car had been ridiculously overpriced. He’s famished.

Gabriel grins. “You hungry?”

Jack grins. “Always.”

“Come on,” Gabriel says, picking Jack's duffel off the ground. “I know a great burger joint right around the corner.”

* * *

“Come on, man, it's by far the best thing on the menu. Live a little.”

Jack squints at the thick stack of shrimp, lettuce and avocado on his plate. He smells lime, lime and cilantro.

“Gabriel,” he says, leaning back into the booth wall. “Not that it doesn't look good. I’m just saying, and please hear me out here: this is not a burger.”

Gabriel turns wide brown eyes on him. He looks ridiculous and mildly offended, left cheek bulging as he shifts the food in his mouth to the side to speak.

“Waddyoumean?”

“Well, for starters, there’s no meat.”

Gabriel swallows, brandishing a sweet potato fry in the air as if he means to hit him with it.

“A burger doesn’t have to have meat. What kind of narrow-minded bullshit is that, come on, think of the planet.”

“Alright. There’s also no bread.”

“Bread is kinda shit for you, though. A ton of carbs per nutrient, gluten’s not great for you, it spikes your blood sugar… hey, did you know that a lot of historians are coming around to grains having domesticated us, not the other way around?”

“I'm running a marathon in two days, Gabe,” Jack says, picking the fry out of Gabriel’s fingers and plopping it in his mouth. “Let me eat my carbs in peace. Bread and meat are kind of the hallmark of a burger as far as I’m concerned. Cheese is also common.”

“This is cheese.” Gabriel picks a cube of feta off his not-a-burger and extends his hand. It’s not the kind of cheese he was talking about, but feta is good and the guy he’s crushing on wants him to eat it out of his hand, and Jack isn’t one to back away from a thing like that.

He catches Gabriel’s wrist and bends his face to it, slipping the cheese cube between his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to his palm. Gabriel swallows, and even when Jack loosens his grip on his hand until they’re barely touching, Gabriel makes no move at all to pull back. Instead, after half a second of looking at him, he turns his hand around so they’re palm to palm, his thumb brushing the side of Jack’s hand. His lips part slightly, one corner of them pulling up into a tiny, crooked grin that makes Jack’s heart melt.

Gabriel lets go and scratches at the shaved-short hair above his ear.

“Uhm,” he says, looking sheepish. “So I realized I forgot to mention that I live with my folks?”

“Oh!” Jack mentally scrambles. From what he’s understood, Gabriel’s on good terms with them, though he realizes he doesn’t actually know any details. “I kinda do too. I live in my parents’ guest house.”

“Not a lot of those in LA, I’m afraid.” Gabriel’s hand moves on to rub self-consciously at his neck. “And, you know, with housing prices in this city, and me being deployed a lot...” He shrugs and looks embarrassed. “My mom was supposed to be out of town this week so we would have had the apartment to ourselves, but her trip got moved so, uhm.” There’s a distinct pink tinge to his cheeks now, and his eyes are flickering around the restaurant, avoiding Jack’s. His nervousness gives Jack courage. He reaches across the table for Gabriel’s hand, running his thumb over his knuckles.

“If there’s only one bed, I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

Gabriel ducks his head and smiles, squeezing Jack’s hand. Peering at him through his eyelashes, he lifts it to his mouth and kisses his knuckles, all chaste and sweet.

“Me neither. But there is an air bed, and there may be some betting on whether you’ll take it or not.”

“Yeah?” Jack leans forward, giving Gabriel his best bedroom eyes. “And what option is your money on?”

Gabriel grins, and tilts his head to catch the tip of Jack’s middle finger between his lips, sucking it into his mouth to the first knuckle. The tip of his tongue trails along the digit, Gabriel’s eyes locked on his as he sucks his finger. Jack’s throat feels tight. He’s lucky he’s wearing jeans, or he’d be giving the other patrons more of a show than he’s comfortable with.

Gabriel pulls off with a smirk, pressing a kiss to Jack’s fingertip.

“My bed,” he murmurs, eyes hot as he runs his hand up Jack’s forearm to rub his thumb over the sensitive skin at the crook of his arm. “I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”

“Oh yeah?”Jack leans forward, covering Gabriel’s hand with his. He can’t quite reach to kiss him over the table. “I take it you have something at stake, then?”

“A week’s worth of dishes, and you in my bed. It’s a win-win.” He rubs his thumb over the back of Jack’s hand. “Listen, nobody’ll be home for a couple hours yet. You wanna take it for a test drive?”

Jack laughs. “That’s a good idea, yeah. I wouldn’t want to agree to this and find that one of the springs was bad or someth--”

Jack must have been distracted, because clearly his ability to judge distance is off. Gabriel does manage to reach to kiss him over the table. It’s uncomfortable, the edge of the table digging into his ribs and the tines of his fork sharp points against his forearm, but Gabriel tastes like lime, lime and cilantro, and his mouth is hot and wet and perfect.

* * *

The second Gabriel is sure that no one else is home in his family’s apartment, Jack finds himself pressed up against the front door, Gabriel’s breath hot against his lips. The kiss starts heated, intense, mellowing out as Jack leans back against the door, pulling Gabriel tight against him. Desire, having been kept at a low boil since they left the restaurant, in the car with Gabriel’s hand on his thigh, surges back to life within him, his cock swelling against Gabriel’s thigh. He trails the tip of his tongue over Gabriel’s lower lip, gently sucks on the ring piercing it, his hands slipping up underneath his hoodie to stroke over his sides. He’s so warm. Warm, and solid, and there.

“Missedyou,” Gabriel murmurs against Jack’s cheek, his hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans to pull their hips together. “Fuck. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He nuzzles close, pressing his face into the junction of Jack’s neck and shoulder, beard scratchy against his skin.

“You said something about a bed..?” Jack asks, breathless, tilting his neck to let Gabriel kiss his way up to his ear. “Fuck, there. Like that.” Gabriel grinds against him. “Shit… Come on, man, I don’t want to meet your mother like this.”

Gabriel chuckles, giving Jack’s ass a firm squeeze before catching hold of his hand and pulling him along to…

Jack snorts, pulling Gabriel in to kiss his cheek.

“Shut up, I’ve barely been back since I was seventeen.”

“Geek.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s cute, I like it. Holy shit, did you make this?”

“Jack, come on,” Gabriel whines and manhandles him towards the bed, “sex now, admire my decorating later.” The edge of the bed hits his calves, and Jack lets himself tumble down on it, sprawling in sheets that smell like Gabriel.

They look at each other for a second. Jack’s heart beats fast, high, almost up in his throat. His palms are sweating.

“Come here, then,” he says, his voice coming out hoarser than he was expecting. “What are you waiting for?”

Gabriel swallows and pushes the door shut, breaking eye-contact. The click of the lock breaks Jack out of his daze, and he sits up and yanks his shirt over his head. He’s still fumbling, head tangled in the neck opening, when he feels Gabriel’s weight settle over his hips, warm hands skimming up his torso to slide behind his neck, pulling him into a kiss as soon as his mouth is free.

Jack stills, lets himself be kissed, enjoying the pressure of Gabriel’s fingertips digging into the back of his neck, basking in Gabriel’s muted laughter as Jack’s shirt slowly slides off his head under the pull of its own weight.

“Cute hat, dipshit.” Gabriel runs a thumb over the shell of his ear.

“Figured you’d like it.” Kiss. Jack toes off his sneakers, dropping them to the floor with dull thumps. He lays back, bracing his socked feet on the mattress to push his hips up, jostling Gabriel. “Why’re you still wearing all those clothes?”

Gabriel quirks an eyebrow.

“Cause you haven’t taken them off me yet?”

“Oh,” Jack’s hands slides up his thighs, slipping in beneath his hoodie and under the hem of the t-shirt beneath. Gabriel’s skin is warm beneath his hands. His eyes close as Jack’s fingertips brush up into his armpits, slipping gently over sweat-slick skin before moving on to his chest, thumbs rubbing over stiffening nipples.

Jack pushes his clothes out of the way and crunches up to kiss at his chest, mouthing at a dark nipple, suckling at it when Gabriel shivers in his lap, nails digging into his neck.

Then he’s pushed down flat, watching with butterflies in his stomach as Gabe pulls the hoodie and t-shirt off and chucks them on the floor, and then his warm palm is sliding down Jack’s stomach, his thumb dipping into his belly button. Gabe kisses him as he moves lower, working his fly open one button at a time until Jack is lying there exposed, the head of his cock poking out of his underwear and perfectly framed by Gabriel’s strong thighs spread across his own.

His breath stutters as Gabriel strokes him, pushing his boxers out of the way. Jack wants to reciprocate, searching for his fly, his fingers fumbling along the line separating tight denim from warm skin, the belt buckles chiming like bells as they knock together. It’s difficult-- Gabriel’s jeans are tight, Jack can’t see what he’s doing, and the belts are stiff and blocking his access. When he nudges against the firm bulge between Gabriel’s legs he gets instantly distracted. He palms him through his jeans instead, swallowing Gabriel’s groans into his mouth, his teeth biting gently at Gabriel’s lower lip.

“Sit up,” Jack says, running his hands all over Gabriel’s body as they part, his back, his waist, the swell of his bicep. He shifts a little under the lessened press of Gabriel’s weight on his legs, kicking his jeans off. He’s naked except for his socks, and he hasn’t even gotten into Gabriel’s pants yet. He paws at them, kissing his belly. The outline of Gabe’s cock is clearly visible, hard and thick and pressing against the fabric constraining it. “Damn. How do you even move in these things?”

Gabriel doesn’t answer, just pops the button himself and lets Jack pull down his zipper, hooking his thumbs inside the waistband and working it down.

“Now sit down.” He nudges Gabriel in the stomach, and he drops back, landing on his ass in between Jack’s spread knees. He doesn’t protest when Jack lifts his legs until he’s flat on his back, sliding his pants and underwear up and off his legs.

He’s never seen him like this before, relaxed and on his back, thighs falling open around Jack’s waist as he lowers them and -- oh. That’s new.

“See something you like?” Gabriel asks with a cheeky grin, head propped up on a folded arm, the other hand playing with the piercings on his dick. Jack swallows. Gabe had mentioned having had one before, had taken it out at the start of the program on a medical recommendation. Jack remembers exploring the small hole it had left right under his glans with his tongue, Gabriel’s hand gentle on his face, the other one bringing his beer bottle up to finish off the dregs. Jack had watched him swallow, his features lowlit in the light slipping in under the door. He was beautiful.

This isn’t one new piercing, though, it’s seven. The old one, a thick curved thing poking one metal ball out the slit of his cock and another nestled right below the head, and then six smaller barbells making a neat line down the underside of the shaft. Jack finds himself licking his lips.

“Can I touch them?”

Gabriel pushes himself up on an arm, legs open around Jack’s hips.

“That’s the point.”

His other hand moves from his cock to Jack’s neck, pulling him in for a kiss, guiding Jack’s hand down his body as soon as their lips are touching. When he finally wraps his hand around Gabriel’s cock, carefully not to tug too hard on the piercings, Gabriel moans into his mouth, pulling himself closer until he’s nestled up right against Jack’s crotch, their ballsacks pressing together. “Oh fuck,” Gabriel says, dropping back down against the mattress, squirming as Jack strokes him firm and slow. He reaches for Jack’s cock and plays with it, twisting his fingers in light brushes up the shaft, over the head. Jack pushes his hand away, pulls Gabriel in as close as he can come and wraps his hand around them both, spitting on their gathered cocks when the rubbing begins to feel dry. Gabriel’s hands settles above his knees, fingers clenching as Jack jerks them off.

“Hey, Morrison?” he asks, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes. “Did you get around to fucking a guy yet?”

Jack stills. He doesn’t really love that word, not used like that, the obsession with penetration evident all over it. As far as he’s concerned, they’re fucking right now. He’s not a virgin, not by a long shot, he just never did that.

He knows what Gabe means though, and God, he wants it.

He shakes his head. His mouth feels dry.

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.” He rises up on his knees and out from underneath Gabriel’s heavy legs, and stretches out on top of him, catching him in a kiss, hands urging Gabriel’s legs to wrap back around his waist. “Fuck, yes, I want to.”

Gabriel fumbles at the bed table, knocking a watch and a chapstick onto the floor before his fingers find the drawer and pulls it open. Jack glances into the drawer and pulls back, smirking.

“Really, Gabe. Handcuffs?”

Gabriel quirks an eyebrow, but Jack can see just a hint of that defensiveness rising up in his eyes.

“I’m game if you are.”

Jack reaches for them. They’re solid, heavier than he expected. Not the flimsy, teddy-covered kind he’d experimented with in high-school.

“Okay,” he says, trying to spin them on his finger. He feels that it doesn’t look nearly as slick as he was aiming for. “I’m in. Which one of us are we tying up?”

“What, no preference?”

“Whichever one of us turns you on more.” He swallows, feels the heat grow in his cheeks as he strokes a hand down Gabriel’s side, tracing his hip bone. “I want to make you feel good. And I trust you.”

Gabriel bites his lips for a second.

“Me,” he says, in a voice that is uncharacteristically small, growing more confident as he keeps speaking. “Me. I'm getting tied up.”

“Okay,” Jack says, heat burning in his belly. “Do you want a safeword?”

Gabriel shakes his head.

“If I say stop, I mean it.”

“Okay.” Jack bends to kiss his sternum, moving up along Gabriel’s body. He clips one of the cuffs around Gabriel’s wrist and slips the other one around the thick wooden slat making up the headboard. Holding his free wrist in one hand, the cool metal cuff in the other, he pauses for a second, watching Gabriel. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Go on.” Gabriel closes his eyes, a shiver running through him as Jack clicks the other cuff locked. He swallows, his breathing shallow, his cock jutting hot into Jack’s hip. “Have you fingered yourself?”

Jack hums in assent as he kisses a trail down the back of Gabriel’s arm, from his elbow toward his armpit. Gabriel squirms when he gets close, squeezing his eyes shut when Jack noses his way into the hair there, pressing a kiss to the ticklish hollow at the joint. His hand finds a tube in the drawer.

“Not that one.” Gabriel says as he uncaps it. “The black bottle. It’s better for ass play.”

Jack finds it and opens it, squeezing some of the thick gel out onto his fingers. He’s done this to himself enough times, tried it with toys. He smears the lube around a bit with his thumb, coating his fingers and letting it warm up a little. Then he scoots down the bed enough that he can kiss Gabriel’s dick, tracing the ridge around the head as he touches his fingers to his hole, slicking the outside and teasing a gentle fingertip inside.

Gabriel grunts and presses back on him, his hole swallowing Jack’s index finger past the first knuckle. Jack looks at him, smiling at the cute little crease between his eyebrows as he gently feels around, carefully exploring until he finds the little textured patch of his prostate, Gabriel’s belly twitching as he strokes a fingertip over it. Jack strokes it again as he takes the head of Gabriel’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue along the piercing and delighting in the way Gabriel tenses around his finger.

He moans, tugging on the handcuffs, his hips rocking between Jack’s hand and mouth, and it’s almost easy: Jack has done this to himself enough times, and Gabriel is great — he’s doing most of the work himself, rolling and twisting his hips, telling Jack when to add another finger, when he wants more lube, what feels great and when to change his angle. His cock throbs on Jack’s tongue, his pulse fluttering in the thick vein winding up the side.

“I’m ready,” he says after a while, lips bitten red and swollen, his face and chest flushed, and Jack is near overcome. He pulls his fingers free and surges up and kiss him, his lube slick hand twisting desperately into the sheets while the other finally, finally gets to curl in Gabriel’s hair, their tongues tangling together messily. “Come on,” Gabriel breathes against his mouth, the inside of his knee sliding along the skin of Jack’s side. “Fuck me.”

The only response Jack is capable of is a labored groan, his breath stuttering when Gabriel lifts his hips for him, Jack’s long-neglected cock slipping over his skin and catching in the crease of his thigh, enveloped in warm skin damp with sweat. He thrusts helplessly against him, nearly coming right then, only managing to catch himself with a painful squeeze at the root of his dick.

“Condom?” He gasps out, already reaching for the drawer by the time the word is out of his mouth. He finds them, fumbles the wrapping on one open and is near too excited to manage to put it on, his every nerve-ending hypersensitive in anticipation as he rolls it down. Gabriel’s head falls back on the sheets, his eyes closed and his lips parted. He’s so beautiful, Jack thinks, breath caught in his throat as he guides Gabriel’s hips onto his lap, strokes his hands reverently over bulging thigh muscles when Gabriel shifts against him, Jack’s cock catching between his cheeks and sliding between them.

Gabriel arches as he begins to push inside him, his brows drawing together and a moan falling from his lips. He glides down slowly, taking control out of Jack’s trembling hands, fucking himself deep and slow on his cock. Jack clutches at his hips, groping at the meat of his thighs and ass, along for the ride as Gabriel moves on top of him, slowly picking up pace and finding a rhythm. Jack moans, eyes roaming over his body, over the pre-come beading on his cock and his slitted eyes gazing back at him.

“Come on, Morrison,” he teases, the tip of his tongue peeking out at the corner of his grin. “You’ve got me all tied up. Do something.”

Swallowing his nerves, Jack does just that, pushing back, taking over, lifting Gabriel’s hips in his hands to pump inside him. A pleased moan rewards him, Gabriel grinning a Cheshire grin and relaxing back, spreading his thighs in invitation. They lift easily when Jack nudges them up, folding Gabriel at the waist and carefully bracing his weight on the back of his knees, his pace easy but his thrusts deep and satisfying.

Neither of them talk after that, just breathing together, keeping pace until Jack releases one of Gabriel’s legs to stroke his cock, wrapping it in a gentle fist and letting the movement of his hips rock Gabriel into it. He gasps, gasps and shivers with every thrust, eyes blinking open to watch. Jack grins back, his confidence bolstered by the pleasure evident in Gabriel’s face, and brings his hand up to his mouth, making a show of licking his fingers.

Gabriel makes a sound like all the breath was just punched out of him when Jack wraps his hand back around him. He keeps pumping his cock firmly in step with the movement of his hips until Gabriel tenses, throwing his head back and kicking his legs out, spilling over Jack’s hand with the most beautiful moan he’s ever heard.

He twitches when Jack moves against him after that, hips pulling away from his next thrust, so Jack pulls out of him and lets his leg drop bonelessly to the mattress. He disposes of the condom and crawls on top of the sated mess of a man in front of him, kissing his face while jerking himself off over his belly. Gabriel nuzzles back at him, expression dazed, his legs curling around his own in some sort of half-formed leg hug.

Jack comes when Gabriel is present enough to kiss him, knows nothing beyond the rush of release but the feel of his lips and the insistent brushing of the soles of Gabriel’s feet over his calves, pulling him slowly back to the present.

“Nnnghh,” he says, always articulate, and just barely manages to tip himself to the side before his arms give in and he sags limp to the mattress, curling against Gabriel’s side. “Mmmm,” he fills in, cuddling closer, feels the puff of air as Gabriel snorts in amusement against the top of his head.

He presses a lazy kiss to Gabriel’s ribs, gradually tracing kisses up his chest and past his collarbones as he recovers. Gabriel bites back a giggle when he hoists himself up over him and gets started on his neck, light tickling brushes of his lips, full out laughing when Jack kisses up past his jaw to pepper kisses over his cheeks and eyelids. He tries to shield himself from the assault with his elbows, the chain keeping his wrists together clattering against the wood of the headboard. Jack stops and waits for Gabriel to peek at him from behind a protective forearm, eyes glittering, and he lowers himself to kiss him deeply, kissing him until Gabriel is once again relaxed against him with one leg hooked over his hip.

Jack fumbles for the key without breaking contact, glancing up to find the keyhole and unlocking one of the cuffs before he’s distracted by Gabriel’s freed hands fisting in his hair and crushing him closer.

“Alright,” he whispers against wet lips when the kiss eventually winds down. The afternoon sun is spilling in through the half-closed blinds, painting golden stripes across Gabriel’s smiling face.

“Yeah?”

“Your bed. It’s alright.”

Gabriel laughs, pulling him back in.

“Fuck you,” he says against his lips, and kisses him again before Jack has time to tell him he just did.

**Author's Note:**

> Please encourage me to write what I should be writing.


End file.
